


Brother Wolf, Sister Jackal

by Nary



Category: Le Pacte des Loups | Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001)
Genre: 18th Century, Africa, Colonialism, Exploration, Fix-It, Gen, Historical, Historical Accuracy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Canon, Slavery, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4149108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Gévaudan, our path lead to a land that was at once older and newer - the land the Beast had come from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother Wolf, Sister Jackal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neverminetohold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/gifts).



I had to let them think Mani was dead, even the Marquis d'Apcher, who had treated us so kindly, a deed which I number among my many regrets. His recounting of the story is the more dramatic one, perhaps, but he could only tell of what he saw, or imagined he saw. Although gravely injured, my companion was yet able to aid me in completing our tasks without having his presence discovered. We each feigned death at Gévaudan. The wolf pack, or what remained of it, watched over him until we were able to depart. 

Marianne desired freedom more than she desired me; our ways parted, fondly, at Marseille, and Mani and I continued our journey together, as we had before. She spoke of traveling to Nouvelle France herself, and I wished her well if that was her choice. For our part, our path lead to a land that was at once older and newer - the land the Beast had come from. 

Sénégal was a place I had longed to visit even before our stay in Gévaudan, but our encounter with Jean-François de Morangias stirred my curiosity again. Not because I thought it might teem with other such terrifying creatures as the one he brought home and used as an instrument of death, you understand, but his tales of the landscape and the unfamiliar sights to be seen in the Sahel fired my enthusiasm to see them for myself. He had journeyed there as a hunter, but I would go as a naturalist, seeking to further my understanding of the world and its many wonders without desecrating them in the process.

Our leaders spoke of the French colonies in West Africa, but in truth, what existed at that date were a few small, embattled forts, mainly on pitiful islands off the coast that no one else wanted. The Seven Years' War had not gone well for my homeland. The English had returned Gorée, at the very westernmost point of the continent, to France only a few years before. The island lacked even its own source of fresh water, and had to import provisions in order to survive, so perhaps it is not surprising that the more practical Englishmen saw no potential for profit there. Although it had little to recommend it on its own merits, as a port for trade in goods from the mainland it thrived, doing a brisk business in gold, ivory, gum arabic, nuts, and, cruellest of all, slaves. The very ship that we had arrived in was to be loaded with such goods and continue its journey to Louisiana before it would return to France, completing the triangle of profit and misery. 

Upon our arrival, I naturally made myself known to the governor of the meagre colony, one Pierre François Guillaume Poncet de la Rivière. As Mani and I proceeded through the village, it felt as though we were walking into an already-tense situation, although I did not know yet how serious it would become. The scars of the recent warfare were still visible, and the populace had the air of those who had been cowed, punished, defeated. We observed several men and women who bore signs of recent whippings, as well. Their eyes followed us, not with curiosity, but with a wary suspicion. 

The habitants of the island were mainly folk of mixed African and European blood, the descendants I would hazard of the Portuguese who first stopped there to trade some hundreds of years before, and the Dutch traders who followed them. Of France's sons, fewer than two hundred officers and soldiers, either sunburnt or tanned to a leathery brown, could be seen amidst the darker faces. Much of the population lived in straw huts, but a few had homes that were more sturdy, of stone and even wood, a rarity on the island. It was in one of these that the governor dwelt. Unlike much of the community, it looked as though it had been recently restored, even expanded, with what was clearly a new kitchen, its walls still white with fresh lime, a short distance from the main building. That, along with the evidence of new fortifications under construction, was the only sign of growth apart from the lush vegetation of the governor's garden.

Inside, it was a relief to be out of the punishing heat of the sun. A young girl with a broom, perhaps eleven or twelve years of age, ushered us into a room where we would wait for the governor, and in French that was only slightly flawed, offered us a drink, which we gratefully accepted. Mani had already while on board ship adopted the garb he preferred from his home, a loincloth and nothing else, and I considered his choice a sensible one under the circumstances. "Perhaps I too should take up your mode of dress," I teased.

"Then you too can be a red man. Red as a boiled lobster," he replied.

We heard Governor Poncet before we saw him, his strident voice ringing out as he shouted invectives at his slaves. By his accusations, they were all lazy, insolent, and thieves as well. The small girl, returning bearing drinks for us, trembled so violently upon hearing his shouts that she would have dropped her tray and its contents had Mani not reached out to steady it and relieve her of her burden. She looked at him with gratitude and quickly retreated to her sweeping at the doorway before the governor entered the room.

I bowed politely, presenting Poncet with my papers. He barely glanced at them, handing them to the dark-skinned man who trailed behind him, a secretary or valet I presumed. "You are the Sieur de Fronsac? The 'naturalist'?" He said this last with a tone of great disdain, as though he did not entirely believe it to be a real profession.

"I am, monsieur," I replied. "Thank you for your gracious welcome." In truth there had been no such thing, but I trusted that it was better to follow the formalities until such time as I had a better sense of the situation.

"What are your intentions here?" he demanded.

Taken somewhat aback, I explained my ambitions - to study and document the flora and fauna of this land, for the betterment of our understanding. The frown on his face grew deeper, and he cut me off before I could finish. "Yes, but what do you require of me? As you can see, our resources here are quite limited." He looked as though he wished he could simply throw me out, but the papers from the king prevented him from realizing his desires.

"Fortunately there is little I require," I assured the governor. "A few provisions for myself and my associate, transport to the mainland, and a local guide, if possible one who knows several of the native languages of this region. Perhaps a map, if such a thing could be copied, but it isn't strictly necessary."

Poncet scowled. "Nevertheless, you ask too much. Our provisions are already too few for the number of soldiers we must support, and the blacks often steal what little we already have. To provide a slave who knows the local languages would be costly indeed - so few of them have learned French that those who know even a little of our tongue are most valuable. What maps we have are out of date since the war's conclusion. Transportation to the mainland could perhaps be arranged on one of the trading longboats," he added grudgingly, "but there is every chance I would be sending you to your deaths. Between the yellow fever, the wildlife, and the savages," he said, with a glance at Mani, "you would not survive long if you persist in making this journey."

I sensed that I was being discouraged from pursuing this expedition any further - but having come such a distance, and at such great cost, I was not about to turn back now. Besides, Mani would have been most disappointed not to see the marvellous land of Africa apart from this small and rather dismal island off its coast. "I understand now that the situation here is more difficult than I had imagined. If there is any way I could aid you, I would be glad to provide my assistance." I smiled ingratiatingly, inwardly cursing this petty, ignorant man who stood in my way.

The governor appeared to consider this matter, as we sipped our drinks, a sweet palm wine. The soft scrape of the young girl's broom as she continued her work, and the droning hum of insects, were all I could hear. "Perhaps there is something you could do," Poncet replied at last. "Prior to the war, the Compagnie des Indes had possession of a fort at Bamboue, on the Senegal River north of Cayor. When the company abandoned the fort, certain of the Africans, a tribe called the Fula, took it over, ostensibly holding it against the British until our return. One of my tasks is to regain this post. If you were able to further this goal, it would be of great aid to both our nation, and to myself personally."

"I am not here to lead a military excursion," I cautioned him. His smirk indicated that he had no intention of sending troops with us, so I added, "Nor can Mani and I fight a war alone."

"The Fula are - or have been, at least - friendly toward France. It may be a simple matter of ascertaining that the route to Bamboue is clear, and informing them that we intend to retake the fort at our earliest convenience - with thanks for their valued service in defending it against the British, of course." 

In my experience, matters of local politics were rarely ever "simple", but it seemed that agreeing to at least pass by this fort and determine what condition it was in, and whether the Fula had any intentions of surrendering it, was the only way Poncet would agree to provide us with the necessary supplies for our journey, so I agreed.

With his permission at last granted, we made our way to the company store to procure provisions. What we found there was a shambles - the building half in ruin, and much of the stored goods damaged by water and vermin. We were able to secure some millet flour and rice that was not too infested with weevils, and a small amount of peanut oil, but there was little else they could offer us. In conversing with the disgruntled garde magasin who had charge of the supplies, I gathered that Poncet had ordered the store to be repaired and expanded, but failed to provide the necessary lumber to do the job properly. Even when certain of the longboats had been deemed too unsound for travel, the planks had been burned in Poncet's own kitchen stoves rather than being reused for construction. Most of those I spoke with led me to the inescapable conclusion that the governor had little skill at governing, and more interest in securing his own comfort and wealth. Few had any good to say of him.

Poncet permitted us to stay in his home for the night, where we could not help but notice that his table did not suffer from the same shortages as the rest of the island. He and his native mistress Marie Angèlique, a haughty girl of perhaps sixteen decked with silks and gold jewelry, headed the table, together with some senior officers of the garrison. We dined on guinea fowl, and a groundnut stew, savoury with onion and bitter greens, which paired unexpectedly well with the cabernet franc. The meal was strongly spiced, perhaps on the theory that sweating profusely would cool one's skin. Poncet's slaves moved quietly and quickly in serving us, and would not meet our gaze for longer than a moment. They seemed well-trained, but I suspected more by the lash than any other means of instruction. My suspicions were confirmed when one of the valets spilled a small amount of wine onto the governor's sleeve, and received a tirade and several blows for his error, together with the threat of a whipping if any more of the valuable import was wasted.

Although the room for guests was small and meagerly furnished, still I suspected that it would be the last night we would sleep with a roof over our heads for some time. Mani opened the window to allow the cooler night air in, and I extinguished the lamp in the vain hope that stinging insects would not seek us out, and we lay next to one another in the dark, neither of us able to sleep. 

"Does your heart trouble you?" I asked Mani at length, hearing him sigh.

"Always," he replied. "But there are many things to be troubled by in this place."

"We'll leave as soon as possible," I promised, my hand on his arm. "The mainland will have many new sights to show us."

He murmured his assent, and gradually we came to sleep.

We were woken at dawn by a quiet knock at our door. The small slave girl bore a tray with milk and a sort of gruel mixture for our breakfast. As I took the food from her with my thanks, she whispered, so softly I almost missed her words, "Take me with you."

I shut the door. "Child, we cannot do this." 

"I can help," she insisted. "I speak French, Arabic, Wolof, Mandinga, Fulani. I know what plants you can eat, where it is safe to sleep." She stuck out her chin. "Without me, you die."

"What is your name?" I asked her.

"They call me Marie-Thérèse, but my name is Hawa."

"Do you have any family here, Hawa?"

She shook her head, small braids swinging with the click of shells. "I am Fula - my people are to the north. You go there for the governor, you can take me with you."

I glanced at Mani, who inclined his head slightly. I could see that he was in favour of this plan, although I still considered it unlikely to succeed. I was unable to envision Poncet letting us take one of his personal slaves, especially a girl who was clever and could already speak several languages. "The governor may not wish to part with you," I told her. 

She smiled, with a cunning glint in her brown eyes. "If you will take me with you, I will make sure he lets me leave." As we ate, she told us more about the land she came from, her people, and how she had been captured. At last, when we were finished, she took the empty bowls and ran off.

"We cannot help every person," Mani said quietly, "but we can help this one." I saw the look on my companion's face, and knew that I was overruled in this matter. 

I spent the morning drafting a letter for the ship's captain to carry with him upon his return to France. It would take many months to arrive, but I felt it important to inform those who might be in positions to affect more substantial change about the mismanagement and cruelty I had already observed in my time on Gorée. Perhaps it would make no difference - but I made sure to include my thoughts about the state of the trade routes and the supply stores, hoping that if tales of human suffering did not move them, financial matters might. 

We rested during the hottest part of the day, as is often the custom here, and to make up for our lack of sleep the night before. Then I was to meet once more with Poncet, to make the final arrangements for our transportation. This time we were alone, as Mani took my letter to the docks and ensured that it was delivered safely, for whatever good it might do.

"A longboat will cross to Dakar tomorrow morning, if the weather is good," the governor informed me. "You may take one of the seats, if you are still determined to see the mainland."

"I am," I replied, "but I have one further request. We have managed to gain most of the supplies we required, apart from one - a guide." He stared at me blankly, so I continued. "The one you call Marie-Thérèse seems a capable girl, if you would be willing to part with her."

A knowing smirk curled across his lips. "You enjoyed her, did you? I heard that she spent time in your chamber this morning. She has the potential to grow into quite a beauty, too, don't you think?"

I kept my face still, knowing that to show either disgust or agreement would be hazardous to these negotiations. "She is knowledgeable, and speaks our language well."

"I cannot simply give her away, you understand," he explained. "She is valuable. A young, healthy girl, growing close to breeding age, who speaks French, would fetch a great deal on the market. Perhaps if you had some property worth trading - a strong warrior, for instance..."

"Mani is not for trade," I said, as calmly as I was able. "He is my companion, my brother."

Poncet shrugged. "Then unless you have some other offer, I cannot simply give you a slave, especially not one of such value."

I walked away, leaving the governor's home in order to clear my head. I pondered whether there would be any chance of stealing the girl away, for I was certain that Mani would not be content with leaving her in this place, and in truth, given the way Poncet spoke about her desirability, I was not at all pleased with the thought either. But to smuggle her onto a longboat, with others who would know of her place in Poncet's household, seemed impossible. 

I struggled with various plans, discarding each one in frustration as I walked the short length of the shore and back. The mainland was not far away, and I was able to make out the lush green trees, which I longed to see more closely. I made some sketches in my book, trying to clear my mind, drawing some of the locals as they passed, or struggling to capture the gleam of a beetle's shell, the swift blur of its wings as it escaped. If only Hawa, and all the other slaves here, could fly away so easily, I thought.

When the sun was low and red in the west, I made my way back to the governor's home, where I passed another restless night. In the morning, I set off early to go and gather our provisions from the store, knowing that the boat would depart with the tide, leaving Mani behind to pack our things. The food was even less than what I had hoped - it might last us for a few days, a week if we rationed it - but it would have to do. I thought again of Hawa's promise that she knew what plants were safe to eat, and wondered how well we would fare on our own.

To my great surprise, I found the girl in our chamber when I returned with the sacks of grain and gourd of oil. She and Mani were seated on the floor, engaged in some complex game with pebbles, which she was evidently winning. "Another!" she exclaimed, taking two more pebbles into her pile with a grin, and Mani frowned solemnly at his predicament.

"What has changed?" I asked, for I could tell at once that the mood was lighter.

"I told you he would want to be rid of me," Hawa said proudly. "It didn't take much."

I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Tell me how you managed it, then."

The girl shrugged her slim shoulders. "I made sure that Marie Angèlique - his mistress, that is - knew that I'd overheard the master speaking of taking me to his bed when I was a little older. She was so jealous, she demanded that he let me go at once, and he's too much under her spell to refuse anything she asks. So I am to leave with you tomorrow and be gone from her sight."

"Wonderful!" I exclaimed, delighted at her ingenuity. 

"Better still," Mani added, "this clever little pup has fallen upon some food for our travels." He gestured to his pack, which was far more full than it had been that morning.

I arched an eyebrow. "I imagine this was purely by luck?"

"The master - no, the governor," she said, smiling at being able to correct herself, for he was no longer her owner, "won't miss a little extra, he's got more than enough. And if anyone goes looking for the spices and oil that disappeared, I dabbed a few little drops on Marie Angèlique's nightshift. She won't get in trouble for stealing, at least." 

I could hardly argue with that. "Let's be on our way before they change their minds," I said, gathering up my pack and making sure my sketchbook was safely stored. The longboat would be leaving shortly, and I had no wish to test our good fortune by missing it.

We made our way to the docks, the three of us. No one came to bid us farewell, and the men loading the longboat gave us only curious glances. We settled into our places, trying to stay out of their way as much as possible. Hawa turned to face the mainland, sucking the air into her lungs as though she could already smell her home. As we shoved off in the direction of the coast, I felt as though I too could breathe easier, away from this grim place.

"Tell me," Mani asked her once we were past the choppy waves of the shore, "are there wolves in your land?"

Hawa nodded uncertainly. "There are golden jackals, that the white men call wolves."

"Are they clever, and hunt their prey in packs like families, and sing their songs by night?"

She nodded. "Wolves are the most cunning hunters. My people have many stories about the trickster wolf, and how he always wins the day." With a grin, she continued, "I got my idea to pin the blame for anything going missing on Marie Angèlique from one of the stories about the jackal's tricks that I remembered from my mother."

"I would very much like to hear those tales," I told her. "Perhaps by the fire tonight, you can tell us."

"And we will hear the song of the wolves again," Mani said, and I saw a peace in his face that had not been there since Gévaudan.

**Author's Note:**

> Poncet was a real historical figure; I apologize slightly for making him awful, but it seems he wasn't a very good governor anyway, and many of the accusations my characters level at him have a foundation in truth. I've fudged the timeline somewhat to have Fronsac and Mani arrive during his tenure as governor, which ended in March 1765 after *someone* wrote an anonymous letter to the French government telling them what he was up to, and how bad an administrator he was.
> 
> I'm grateful for Andrew K. Skabelund's thesis "Governing Gorée: France in West Africa Following the Seven Years’ War", which was an invaluable source. 
> 
> There really are wolves in Senegal! But this was only discovered within the past few years: http://retrieverman.net/2012/08/14/the-discovery-of-wolves-in-senegal-and-a-new-species-complex-in-the-genus-canis/ So Hawa's 'jackals' are actually more closely related to European wolves than to other jackals. I felt this was very fitting.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


End file.
